Untitled Brittberry
by gimmethesticky
Summary: "Before we officially get started, I just wanted to make sure something was clear." "What's that?" "This is a date." "I think I figured that out."
1. Chapter 1

**Pairing**: Brittany/Rachel  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own Glee or any of its characters.  
**Summary**: Brittany and Rachel work at a community theater and they form a relationship after an interesting mishap at a racetrack.  
**Author**'s Note: This is AU, probably a little OOC, but I'm having fun writing it.  
**Spoilers**: It's a cookbook.

* * *

"Hey, so there's this super awesome thing on Sunday, do you wanna go with me?"

"Um, what kind of thing?"

"A Motocross thing, it's gonna be great."

"Oh, like a competition?"

"Yeah, like a competition."

"Well, then, I suppose so, yes, I think that sounds like an interesting experience."

"Okay," Brittany grabbed Rachel's hand and scribbled down the address across her palm before skipping off down the hall.

Rachel looked at the cute scribble on her hand, the few I's in the address were dotted with tiny hearts, and the Y's and J's had loopy tails.

She shook her head in mild bewilderment.

Rachel had been interning at a community theater for a month or two before Summer vacation started, but her superiors made the decision to transfer her to larger, more frequented space. She was an actor, singer, dancer, and performer in general, but she felt her Musical Theater degree would be lacking if she had no idea how any of the backstage workings operated. After all, if the techies weren't there, there couldn't possibly be a show, could there?

Brittany was actually working there as a dance instructor for children's ballet on weekdays and adult ballroom dancing, swing, and hip hop on the weekends. She'd told Rachel it had been her Summer job since she'd moved to New York.

She'd immediately taken a liking to Rachel, and would invite the brunette for coffee, or lunch whenever they were both free. Brittany was nice, and funny, in a sometimes unintentional sort of way. She never mentioned a boyfriend, but Rachel figured she must be taken with an adorable personality and a body like that. I mean, come on. The girl was a total stunner.

This was he first time Rachel would be meeting Brittany somewhere farther away than a few blocks from the theater. The address was quite a few miles out of the city. Why would she want Rachel to go to a Motocross event, though? Maybe she wanted someone to cheer on her boyfriend with her? Because that's why Rachel figured Brittany wanted her there. No matter. Rachel had never been, and the experience sounded like it could be fun.

xxx

On Sunday, Rachel dressed in a pair of jeans, a simple dark red v-neck shirt, her faux leather jacket, and a pair of short boots her costume director let her keep from a past show. She drove the forty minutes it took to get to this motocross event, and realized as she was getting out of her car onto the dirt parking lot that she didn't have Brittany's phone number. This meeting might have been slightly poorly planned.

She walked up to the ticket booth – the term is used very lightly, as it was just a makeshift table consisting of a beat up lawn chair and a cardboard box.

Apparently it wasn't a very high-class event.

"Name," A gruff-looking woman with a shaved head save for a small, hot pink tuft where her bangs would start glanced at Rachel before staring at a list. When Rachel didn't respond, the woman looked up and gave her a rather charming smile. "C'mon, sweetheart, I just need it so I know where to send you."

"I just don't think I'm on your sheet, is all. I'm supposed to be meeting a friend," At the mention of Rachel meeting someone, the woman's smile faded.

"Lemme just check anyway, hon. Last name?"

"Berry."

The woman flipped to the first page and immediately crossed out a name.

"Berry comma Rachel. Cute," the woman smirked. "You're up in The Hills."

"The Hills?"

She hummed. "Best spot on the property. It's the only place where you can see the entire track."

"Oh, alright," Brittany must be waiting for her there, if she was on a list. "How do I get there?"

"Take a left and follow the signs, sweetheart," the woman winked and Rachel thanked her before going where she was instructed.

She made it to The Hills where there were a few haphazardly placed metal folding chairs and coolers that were being ignored by the fifteen or so other people milling about. She didn't see Brittany among them. Rachel was about to ask one of the less scary looking people about her blonde friend when the engine of a fast approaching bike caught her attention. She turned towards the sound and was alarmed to see the rider was coming right at her. She became paralyzed as he didn't slow down, and she couldn't even close her eyes while he just got closer and closer. At the last second he twisted the body of the bike and braked, hard, sending dirt and tiny rocks flying against her boots.

Infuriated at such a juvenile stunt, she marched the two feet to the rider and smacked the unpadded part of his arm.

"Are you out of your mind? You think it's funny trying to scare people like that? Who do you race for?"

Rachel's onslaught of angry questions was not meant to be hilarious in any way, but it must have been to the rider, because he was laughing so hard he was holding his sides. The sound was muffled because of his helmet. She was about to smack him again when he gently caught her wrist and set the kickstand of his bike before getting off. He took his white and red helmet and goggles off and Rachel gasped.

"Brittany?"

She was still laughing. "I'm so sorry, oh my god, your reaction was so awesome!" she leaned down and pulled Rachel into a tight hug, lifting the brunette off of the ground for a few seconds before setting her back down and smiling brightly at her.

"I don't- I thought you were- what are you doing with a bike?" Rachel asked after she had gotten over the traumatic experience of being nearly killed.

"I'm entered in the race, silly. Why do you think you've got the best seat in the house?"

"I don't know, I thought you wanted me with you to cheer on your boyfriend, or something."

Brittany laughed at that. "Oh, jeez, Rach," Brittany chuckled and Rachel smiled softy at the nickname. "I haven't had a boyfriend since I was seventeen."

"Oh."

"The race starts in about ten minutes, so I should get down to the starting gate," Brittany was about to put her helmet back on when Rachel put a hand on her arm.

"Be careful."

Brittany smiled and leaned down again, but this time she kissed Rachel on the cheek.

"Only 'cause I know you'll be mad if I'm not," the blonde smirked and threw her helmet on before Rachel could react. Then she was on her matching red and black and white bike and back down the wide path.

Rachel walked to the edge of the hill where a barrier was put in place to keep onlookers from falling. The view of the track was completely uninhibited. She could even see Brittany's bike, number twenty-one, as she lined up at the starting gate. The various other people seemed less interested in the race and more interested in their conversations. Some people were in suits, other people dressed more casually.

She watched as the woman who had been checking the list walked out onto the middle of the dirt track in front of the racers. There were about fifty bikes, all in a line. Soon, she gave a signal and every motorcycle erupted in a rolling growling sound as the riders revved their engines. The woman threw her hands into the air for a few seconds, and when she dropped into a crouching position, the racers were off. The brunette was momentarily concerned for the starter's safety; it looked like she was going to get hit by several bikes. They all avoided her, though, and Rachel was back to keeping her eyes on red, black, and white.

The first jump wasn't too bad, but the second? Rachel gasped as Brittany flew high in the air and lifted her legs out to extend them behind her. The brunette thought something had gone horribly wrong, and put a hand went to chest, expecting the worst. She was surprised, then, when Brittany didn't crash at all, but successfully repositioned herself and landed beautifully back on the ground. Rachel gasped again when the mass came up to a sharp turn and many of the riders were intentionally attempting to knock each other off the bikes. Fortunately, Brittany was ahead of the main pack, behind two riders and in front of five. Didn't motocross races have strict rules about being violent on the track? Rachel had absolutely no idea, but she thought at least some decorum would be enforced.

A blonde, fluffy-haired young man in a plaid shirt with rolled up sleeves and low-hanging jeans walked up next to her and followed her eyes to the group up in front.

"Who have you placed bets for?" he was young. Around fifteen or sixteen, Rachel suspected. His question confused her.

"Bets?" She glanced at him once before returning her attention to Brittany, who pulled another death-defying stunt only to land perfectly unscathed.

"Yeah, you know, for the race? This is the second Bowl I've been to."

"Bowl?"

"I guess this is your first. Bowl Race. You know, because they're illegally racing at the Bowl? No officials, everyone's betting, it's a 2G buy in to actually race?"

"What?" Rachel's shocked voice caused the kid to throw his hands up, as if at gunpoint. Meanwhile, Rachel was even more concerned with Brittany's safety. She was also a little irked; Brittany invited her to an illegal event without informing her.

"Who are you here with?" he looked around, possibly looking for Rachel's companion.

Distractedly, Rachel said, "Number 21."

"Pierce? Wow. My brother's had this dorky crush on her for years, but she won't bite. I keep telling him she swings the other way, but he just doesn't want to give up."

"How many laps do they do?" Rachel ignored his comment. Somehow in a manner of hours Brittany went from the really nice girl she had coffee with to the really nice girl she had coffee with and was apparently single and probably not straight and was most likely actually flirting a LOT during those times at the Coffee Java.

"Usually I think it's four, but they're doing five for this race. They're actually in the fifth, right now."

Rachel's heart rate hadn't really slowed down since Brittany charged her with the bike, and it certainly wasn't slowing, now. She watched as the head of the pack curved around the last bends. Brittany was neck and neck with someone in second place, and Rachel felt a huge rush of relief when Brittany not only landed the last jump and crossed the finish line, but she landed ahead of the other racer, placing second. He was close behind her, though, and Brittany (nor Rachel) was not expecting him to kick at her bike as he zoomed past her.

Brittany lost control and her bike fell to the ground, skidding a good thirty feet before it stopped. Brittany had the good sense of mind to jump ship beforehand, so she ended up rolling and landing in a heap next to her two-wheeled vehicle. Rachel's stomach dropped and she ran down the path to where a few people had gathered around Brittany's crash side, in hopes of seeing the carnage. It took about a minute for Rachel finally get there, but when she did she muscled her way through the gawkers and she let out a sound that resembled a cry of relief and a sob.

Brittany was sitting up with her legs extended in front of her, examining her helmet, which apparently had cracks in it from the fall. Rachel threw herself at the blonde, knocking the helmet to the ground. Brittany, surprised by the sudden woman in her arms, almost fell back into the dirt, but caught herself and held onto Rachel tighter.

"I haven't been that scared in a long time," Rachel mumbled into Brittany's neck.

"I'm okay, Rach," when Brittany heard the woman sniffle, she pulled back to see tears staining Rachel's face. "Oh, Rachel," Brittany awkwardly maneuvered herself and stood up, bringing Rachel with her. The crowd had dispersed and Brittany could hear them cheering on the guy who won first.

The brunette immediately wrapped her arms tightly around Brittany's waist, while Brittany slid her left arm around Rachel's shoulder, and held the smaller woman's head to her chest. The blonde felt Rachel's chest shaking with silent tears, and whispered comforting words as she stroked silky brown hair. They stood like that, Rachel clinging to Brittany, and Brittany holding Rachel, until the brunette calmed down. When Rachel pulled away, Brittany yanked off a glove and wiped at the drying tears on Rachel's face.

"Are you okay?" Rachel still felt like she was going to breakdown again if she thought too hard about what had happened.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm going to have a few gnarly bruises, and I might be sore for a bit, but other than that, I'm okay."

"I don't understand why that racer did that. He placed third, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but thirders only get a measly medal," Brittany smirked at her triumph. "First and second get cash prizes."

"Oh," Suddenly, Rachel remembered something. She smacked Brittany's padded shoulder, making the blonde jump. "Brittany Pierce, you deliberately invited me to an illegal sporting event without even informing me!"

"Of course I didn't tell you!" Brittany reached out and brushed Rachel's hair behind her ear. "If I had told you it wasn't legal, you never would have come, and I really wanted you too."

"You did?"

"Yeah," Brittany gave Rachel a small smile and as her hand fell away from the brunette's hair, her fingertips grazed the back of Rachel's hand. "Now come with me so I can collect my eleven thousand dollars."

Rachel's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "Eleven thousand!"

"Well, the prize money for second is ten, and I had won $500 dollars on another smaller race, and I bet that on myself for second, so that adds up to eleven thousand."

Rachel was still speechless.

Brittany picked up her bike and inspected the damage. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, but a portion of the money she won would go into repairs. As they walked, Brittany decided to implement the second part of her plan.

"So, can I use some of my prize money to go to the grocery store with you so I can make you dinner at my place, tonight?"

Rachel was visibly shocked at the invitation. "I-" Rachel stopped walking, so Brittany did, too. Rachel thought about what this was implying. Not only was Brittany asking her on a date, she was asking to make Rachel dinner at her home. That's a very intimate setting. "That sounds lovely."

Brittany beamed, and Rachel smiled at her excitement. Brittany got her prize money in a small stack of one hundred and ten hundreds, and Rachel watched as the blonde got her bike into the bed of her pick up truck. Brittany peeled off her riding jacket and padding gear and tossed that in the bed as well, before quickly shucking on a dark grey hoodie.

"So will you follow me to my apartment?"

"Of course."

xxx

Brittany opened the door and Rachel immediately noticed pictures of a strikingly beautiful woman in frames all over the apartment. In some, the gorgeous, tan brunette was alone, in others she was laughing with Brittany, and in more still she was with Brittany and another blonde.

Brittany took of her boots and noticed Rachel looking at a picture in a bookshelf in the living room.

"Her name's Santana, and the blonde is Quinn. Santana's my ex girlfriend, and she and Quinn have been and still are my best friends since junior high school."

Rachel now saw a frame on the lower shelf of Brittany and Santana sharing a smiling kiss.

"Where are they, now?"

"Hold that thought, kay? I need a shower," Brittany bounced off towards what Rachel suspected was the bedroom. She stood around awkwardly for a moment, not sure what to do with herself, when Brittany's head popped around the corner. "Well, come on!"

Confused, Rachel stood there for a minute. Did she mean…? Curiosity got the best of her. When she walked into the bedroom, Brittany was moving a beanbag chair just to the right of the bathroom door with the higher part of the chair at the wall.

"So we can still talk," Brittany said by way of explanation. She took Rachel by the shoulders and planted her in the low seat. She then walked into the bathroom and Rachel turned so she could still see but she quickly turned back when Brittany beginning to pull the riding pants from her legs.

"So," Brittany spoke and Rachel heard water being turned on. "Q's in LA working her way up the food chain in Hollywood, directing small movies when she can, and getting work on sets as a production assistant, or a runner, or whatever she can, hoping to meet the right people so she can get an in with someone."

The steady stream of water was muffled by something, and Rachel couldn't help but imagine the hot water streaming down Brittany's flawless body.

"And what about Santana?" she had to speak a little louder so Brittany would be able to hear.

"San lives in Brooklyn," there was a pause for a few minutes and all Rachel could hear was the water. "She went to school to be a lawyer, and she has her degree, and everything, but she ended up really hating it," Another pause. "So now she's really into the art scene, like, photography and poetry and shit. It's awesome because I still see her at least once a week. I haven't seen Quinn in months."

The water had stopped, Brittany was out of the shower, and she walked back into the bedroom with a towel around her body and one wrapped around her head. Rachel's eyes found a fascinating shadow on the ceiling. Brittany went into a walk in closet, and Rachel released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. There were a few minutes of silence, and Brittany reemerged in a pair of tight jeans, dark purple suede pumps, and a loose, white peasant top.

"Let me just dry this a bit, and then the store's just two blocks away," she gestured to her hair with open hands, and then walked back into the bathroom.

Rachel stood and wandered back into the living room. She glanced at the rug in front of the 55 inch TV and did a double take. It wasn't a rug at all; it was a Dance Dance Revolution mat. Rachel smiled at this, imagining how the game probably wasn't challenging at all for her blonde friend.

She looked at the DVDs in the shelves of the entertainment system. She found dance movie after dance movie in between regular blockbusters. Again, she smiled. It was like her own movie collection, except Rachel was hoarding musicals.

"Are you ready?" Brittany had slipped on a dark grey, soft blazer, and she'd left the buttons undone. She looked good.

Rachel nodded, and followed Brittany out the door. The brunette was lost in her thoughts when Brittany interrupted them.

"Have you always been this quiet?" Her voice was soft, obviously not wanting to disturb whatever Rachel was thinking about. She was thinking about Brittany.

"No," Rachel turned and smiled at the tall woman. "I was ridiculed in high school for being the loud-mouth girl with the plaid skirts and animal sweaters who would just never shut up about her precious Glee Club."

They walked into the supermarket and Brittany got a cart.

"Oh man, I'm getting the most adorable mental image right now," Brittany giggled, and Rachel blushed. "I bet you were the cutest thing."

"And I bet you were just as intimidating as you are now," Rachel said.

"Intimidating?

Rachel just smirked and quickened her step down the aisle. Brittany broke out into a wide smile.

"Is Rachel Berry flirting?"

Rachel looked at Brittany amusedly from over her shoulder. The blonde had stopped in the middle of the baking needs aisle, genuinely shocked and entertained by this glimpse at a different side of her shorter friend. Brittany chuckled once, and then continued walking down the aisle.

She walked through the store collecting what she needed. Rachel mostly stayed silent, except for an occasional "how will that be used?" or "will you tell me what you're making?" from Rachel. Brittany kept quiet, though. She wanted the meal to kept a surprise.

Rachel helped carry one of the bags as they walked back to Brittany's apartment. "You'll at least let me help you prepare, won't you? If only to wash something, or to chop?"

Brittany hummed in agreement as they entered the stairwell. "You can help me wash dishes when we're done."

"But-"

"Really, Rach," Brittany fumbled with her keys for a minute before she opened the door to the stairwell into the building hallway, and they walked to the end where she opened her own front door. "There isn't much to do except add the ingredients and then eat when it's ready."

"What should I do when you're cooking, then?" Rachel followed Brittany down the hall into the kitchen and placed the grocery bag on the counter.

"You could watch a movie? I can hear the TV from in here, so it'll kind of be like we're watching together," Brittany began setting things up, pulling pot and pans from hooks dangling from the ceiling, slipping a duck pattern apron on, and organizing her ingredients along the counter top.

Rachel smiled. "Okay."

She walked back out of the kitchen to the right, where the TV was. She looked back through the DVDs, looking more thoroughly, this time. Rachel was impressed the movies were organized in alphabetical order. She got to the Ts and something caught her eye: The Troubletones.

She pulled the DVD from the shelf and examined the cover. It was just a black background with "Troubletones" hand written in silver sharpie. Curious, Rachel popped open the case and with a few false starts, she was able to get the DVD player and TV working. A simple menu popped up with a black background and grey text. It read "Troubletones" across the top, and several dates listed below it. Rachel clicked the first one, and sat back on the floor to watch.

After a few seconds of darkness, the apartment was soon filled with the sound of five young women singing Christina Aguilera's Candyman, and Rachel was absolutely captivated by what she saw on the screen. There was Brittany, on a stage, in a powder blue flight attendant uniform and captain's hat. There were five girls including Brittany, and Rachel recognized Quinn and Santana from the picture in the apartment. Santana was in the middle with Quinn on her right and Brittany on her left. The two other girls were on the very outside of the line. The number ended and Rachel hastily clicked the pause button before hurrying back into the kitchen, where Brittany was smiling. She had obviously heard what Rachel had watched.

"Why didn't you tell me you were in a high school glee club?" She leaned back onto the counter and watched as Brittany stirred things in a hot pan over the stove.

"Why didn't you ever ask?" She checked under the lid of a pot on another burner and smiled when a rush of steam escaped. "Dinner's almost ready."

When Brittany tilted her head to the table just outside the kitchen, Rachel realized the blonde must have set it when she'd been gawking at the television. She blushed a little bit when she saw the unlit candle between the dinner plates, but went and took a seat, anyway. Brittany came out of the kitchen holding two glasses of red wine and she set them on the table before grabbing both of their plates and walking quickly back to the stove. Suddenly there was gentle guitar music flowing through the apartment. The sound system must be in the kitchen.

Brittany reemerged with the plated meal in her strong hands. She'd taken off the apron, and smiled as she sat on then other side of the corner of the table where Rachel was. She took a deep breath and scanned the table.

"Have I missed anything?" Her eye caught sight of the candle. "Oh!" She jogged back into the kitchen and came back with a dark purple Bic. She lit the wick, and adjusted the dimmer switch on the wall. "And voila, we have ambiance."

Rachel smiled at Brittany's antics. She was being more than a little adorable.

"Before we officially get started, I just wanted to make sure something was clear."

"What's that?"

"This is a date."

"I think I figured that out."

"Just because those coffees and lunches weren't ever official dates."

"But this one is."

"Yes."

"Well, now that that's sorted, this looks so delicious. What's in it?" She examined the beautiful dish; she almost didn't want to eat it, it was so pretty. Almost.

"It's angel hair pasta with a tomato and artichoke heart sauce, with garlic, bay leaf, capers, and a touch of oregano."

"It smells heavenly."

Brittany sipped her wine as she watched Rachel twirl the pasta onto her fork. She nearly choked when the brunette actually moaned in delight as she tasted the food.

"Oh my god," Rachel tilted her head back and her eyes rolled back in her head as the flavors of the pasta and sauce rolled over her tongue.

Brittany sat there, slack-jawed and staring as Rachel continued to have audible responses to the food. She began eating, herself, but she could have been consuming play dough, for all she knew. She was completely focused on Rachel and her reactions, which, let's be honest. The sounds Rachel was making were causing her to soak through her panties. Brittany wondered if the brunette would want dessert...

"That was unbelievable," Rachel placed her fork and knife on the empty plate.

"Salad!" Brittany smacked herself on the forehead with her palm.

"Excuse me?"

"I forgot to make the salad," Brittany pouted.

"It's okay, the meal was perfect without it," Rachel stood and took Brittany's empty plate before the blonde could protest. She went to the sink and began rinsing the dishes before sticking them into the washer.

Brittany walked in as Rachel was putting a pan in the lower rack of the dishwasher, and grabbed the pasta pot before Rachel was able to.

"You made just enough for the two of us," Rachel observed. The pasta pot (and the sauce pan) had nothing left in it.

"I did," Brittany wet a paper towel and wiped it across the counter top, cleaning up her mess. Rachel put the pot in the dishwasher and closed it.

Brittany gently took Rachel's damp hands and held them under the tap. She turned on the water so it was warm and squeezed a dime-sized dot of hand soap into her own palm. She began soaping up Rachel's hands, which were now warm from the water, along with her own. She made sure to clean every finger, and to gently rub her thumb across each knuckle. When she was done, she turned the water off and pulled a small hand towel from her back pocket. She dried Rachel's hand with just as much care, and she kissed the brunette's soft palms when she was finished. When she finally looked at Rachel's eyes her pupils were dilated, and the woman's chest was visibly heaving.

"No one has ever done that, before," her voice was noticeably deeper, and possibly raspier than it had been earlier in the evening.

"Washed your hands?"

"Kissed them."

"They're not the only things I'd like to kiss."

In a bold voice Rachel had forgotten she had, she said, "Show me."

Brittany smiled at her and cupped her cheek. She brushed her thumb across a soft, plump lip, and leaned in just an inch away. "I've wanted to kiss you since I first heard you singing on the stage that day after you thought everyone had left."

Rachel made a small whining noise in the back of her throat. Brittany moved forward and Rachel parted her lips in anticipation, but at the last second, Brittany dipped her head and attached her lips to Rachel's neck. The brunette's knees buckled, slightly, and her hands went to Brittany's strong shoulders as the blonde held Rachel up by her waist. Brittany leaned back and admired the purple hickey she'd left.

"Oh, god," Rachel found her balance and looked into sparkling blue eyes. "You're marking me already? We haven't even properly kissed, yet."

"I thought you might want dessert before things get heavy," Brittany gave Rachel's waist a squeeze and smirked at her raised eyebrows.

"Heavy?" Rachel put on her best innocent voice. "Heavy how?" She wasn't really expecting a response. Maybe she just thought Brittany would smirk before leading her into the bedroom, which, by the way, she would totally not object to that happening.

She definitely wasn't expecting Brittany to lean down so the blonde could whisper in her ear to whisper, "Heavy like my mouth and fingers between your thighs, teasing you until your breaking point and then making you come so suddenly, so hard, that you don't even realize how loud you're screaming."

"Jesus," Rachel breathed. She felt her knees might just completely give out, this time, so she reached down to support herself by holding onto Brittany's waist. Her sordid thoughts were broken when Brittany cried out when Rachel grabbed her. Rachel looked up to see Brittany's face contorted in pain. The brunette's demeanor immediately snapped from extremely turned on to caring, concerned friend. She removed her hands and Brittany gingerly placed her palm on her side.

Rachel pushed the blonde's hand away and pulled up the peasant top by the hem, lifting it to just below the swell of her breasts. "Oh my god," Rachel's other hand hovered over one of the large, dark purple bruises on Brittany's ribs. Brittany's eyes were still closed in pain. Rachel frowned and her brow furrowed. The bruise on Brittany's ribs was at least the side of her hand. Rachel abhorred violence (usually), but she wouldn't mind giving the guy who did this to Brittany a piece of her mind, and fists.

"Go to your bed and strip down to your underwear." At Rachel's command, Brittany's eyes shot open.

"Don't get excited," Rachel dropped the shirt and it fell back down Brittany's stomach. She looked up to the blonde and reached up to cup her cheek. "I'm in protective friend mode, right now, and I'm going to treat your injuries. Do not argue with me. Go."

Brittany smiled softy at Rachel's calm yet authoritative tone, and did as she was told. She went into her room and took off everything but her bra, changed her boy shorts (thank you, Rachel), and then turned to the large mirror on her closet door to assess the damage for herself. She chuckled a little in disbelief. "Shit," she looked like she was wearing an army print body suit, except instead of shades of green, it was shades of blue and purple over pale skin.

She got her phone and took a picture of herself before sending it in a text. Seconds later, she was still admiring how absolutely gnarly she looked when her phone began playing Amy Winehouse's Valerie. She slid her finger across the screen and held the device up to her ear. Before she could say anything, Santana's voice was coming through the receiver.

"Fucking shit, B!"

Brittany laughed at her friend's reaction. "I know, right? I placed second and the ass hat who didn't kicked me over just after I finished."

"Goddam, if I'd been there I'd have fucking kicked his ass so fucking hard. You okay? Need me to come over?" Santana's voice sounded a little louder than usual, which probably meant one hand was covered in paint while the other worked a brush across a large canvas as she held the phone between her face and shoulder.

"No," Brittany heard cupboards shutting and drawers being pulled open in the kitchen. Rachel was probably looking for things to help her bruises. "Rachel's here."

"No shit!"

"Yeah, it's awesome, but these bruises totally cock blocked me," Brittany pouted even though she knew Santana couldn't see it.

"Hey, you know you'll get some."

She could hear Santana's smile in her voice.

"Go find her and hand her the phone and then go back to your room."

"Kay," One of the things about the two of them knowing each other for so long? Complete and utter trust.

She walked and found Rachel rummaging around in the freezer. There were some hand towels, a glass of water, and a bottle of Tylenol on the counter. When Rachel spotted the blonde, she couldn't help the deep blush that started at her chest and rose to the tips of her ears. Even covered in bruises, Brittany was gorgeous.

"Here," Brittany handed Rachel the phone and, like Santana had told her, walked back into her bedroom.

Rachel was momentarily captivated by Brittany's ass clad only in red boy shorts, but then looked down to the screen of the phone, and realized someone was on the other line.

"Hello?" She continued her search for an ice pack, or maybe some peas. Brittany really should clean out her freezer; what could one person possibly do with that many Otter Pops?

"Ice packs are in the mini fridge B has in her bedroom on the left side of her bed. Once you get her fixed up, give her a green Otter Pop, and season one of True Blood is under the left most couch cushion." The woman's voice was soft, and yet raspy. She gave out the instructions like she'd done them herself many times before. The only thing that didn't make sense was the last part.

"Why-?" She was cut off before she could finish.

"That DVD shelf gets direct sunlight from the windows, and B doesn't want the vamps getting toasted." Again, it sounded like she'd given that explanation many times before. Rachel smiled.

"True Blood?" Rachel asked, a little incredulous at Brittany's television choice.

"She likes Anna Paquin. Can you blame her?"

"You're Santana, aren't you?" She closed the freezer, remembering to go back for Brittany's frozen treat once she'd tended to the blonde.

"The one and only," Santana shifted the phone on her shoulder, causing a little bit of static on both ends.

"Thank you," Rachel began gathering her supplies, deciding she'd have to go back for the glass of water.

"No problem," She shifted the phone again. "I know you and B get Sundays off, so next weekend we're all going for drinks."

Rachel smiled. "Alright."

"Right, I'm going to let you go. Don't forget the Otter Pop."

Santana hung up and Rachel ended the call on Brittany's phone. She walked into the bedroom and Brittany was sitting patiently on the edge of her bed.

She walked to the other side of the bed where, sure enough, she found a mini fridge with a small freezer compartment that was full of around seven blue ice packs. She took out four and added them to the towels and Tylenol in her arms. "Come on."

Brittany obediently followed Rachel to the living area and started to lie down on the couch.

"Uh uh," Rachel had placed her supplies on the floor and handed Brittany the glass of water from the kitchen counter and two little red pills. "Drink those first, and all the water."

She sat next to the couch while Brittany took the pain meds and only shuddered a little bit when Brittany licked her lips after finishing the glass.

"Now can I?"

"Yes."

Brittany stretched out across the couch, her feet propped up on the arm rest. She curiously craned her neck when Rachel suddenly disappeared, but soon smiled when the brunette returned with three pillows from her bed.

"Sit up, a bit," Brittany did, and Rachel slipped two of the pillows behind her shoulders so she wasn't flat on her back.

Once Brittany was settled, Rachel allowed her eyes to roam over her purpled body, sometimes lightly running over her fingers over the discolored skin. Rachel took her attention back to something else Santana had told her. She shoved her hand under the cushion Brittany's shoulders and upper body were on with a little difficulty because of the blonde's weight, but she smiled in triumph when her fingers found what they were looking for. She quickly switched out the Troubletones disc and replaced it with disc one of True Blood. She then grabbed the remote and sat back down on the floor next to Brittany.

"I'm going to start with the ice packs now, alright?"

Brittany nodded, and hissed slightly when the first pack was placed on her stomach.

"Sorry," Rachel whispered. She wrapped the second in one of the towels and laid it on Brittany's hip, receiving a similar sound, but this time it was because her fingers grazed the fabric of Brittany's boy shorts.

"Lift your hips," Rachel had the third towel-wrapped ice pack, and when Brittany complied, she slipped it to the small of the woman's back, eliciting a sound of discomfort from her.

With the fourth pack, Rachel just kept the towel on it for thirty seconds before gently holding it to the smaller bruises around Brittany's clavicle, and on her arms. She only hesitated when she needed to tend to the bruises on Brittany's incredible legs. Brittany was relaxing into Rachel's touch, the barely there pressure of the cool cloth on her arms was soothing, and the cold of the ice packs was helping her bruises. When Rachel stopped, she pulled her eyes away from the opening theme of True Blood and followed the woman's gaze to her legs.

Her knees looked like they got the worst of it, but her thighs and shins definitely had had better days. Her knees were slightly swollen, and she sighed under a flinch when Rachel placed the ice packs from her stomach and hip on her sore joints. Rachel tentatively held the cold towel over a fist-sized bruise on the top of Brittany's thigh, an inch below the fabric of her boy shorts. She bit her lip and let her eyes wander to the crotch of Brittany's red underwear.

Brittany had stopped watching the television screen when Bill walked into Merlott's. Watching Rachel's internal struggle was much more entertaining. And arousing. Rachel was standing up on her knees with the towel in her hand, biting her lip. Brittany reached out with her hands and lightly caressed the woman's jaw and ran her thumb across her cheek. Rachel turned to Brittany and expelled a deep breath through her nose. Brittany's hand snaked back further and her fingers got lost in dark, silky hair. She pulled, lightly, and Rachel took the hint.

Brittany guided Rachel's mouth to just in front of hers. Rachel wasn't going to have any teasing, again, so she surged forward and moaned softly against Brittany's lips. It was quick, and sweet, and not nearly enough. Brittany pulled at Rachel's shoulder, attempting to get the girl on top of her.

"Wait, wait," Rachel braced herself against the back of the couch and resisted just sitting on Brittany's hips in order to kiss her harder. "I don't want to hurt you."

Brittany shook her head. Rachel was way too far away all she wanted was to feel their bodies together and to explore the brunette's mouth, and tongue. "You won't."

Rachel raised her eyebrows and used her hand to put slight pressure on the bruise on Brittany's hip that she had been icing before. The blonde gasped in pain and her hand fisted Rachel's hair.

"Yes, I will," Rachel put the fourth ice pack on the bruise she'd distressed.

Brittany whined, and pouted, and pulled in Rachel by the hair for another, longer kiss. Rachel sighed against her, and Brittany really wanted the smaller woman on top of her. Thinking it might entice the brunette to change her mind (she could totally deal with the pain), she pushed her tongue past Rachel's lips, and her hips spasmed when Rachel lightly nipped at the muscle with her teeth.

"Rachel," please, is what she wanted to say, but begging wasn't her style. Not when she was trying to top from the bottom, anyway. "Get up here."

Rachel sucked at Brittany's bottom lip and released it with a pop. "No."

"Fine," Brittany swung her legs off of the couch, dislodging all of her ice packs, and stood up. "Come on," she walked off to her bedroom without waiting for Rachel to follow her. The brunette was, of course, right behind her, but Brittany didn't need to see that to know it.

"Get on the bed," Brittany said, and she smirked when Rachel obeyed.

She waited for Rachel to get situated and then crawled up the bed to hover over her, a hand on either side of the brunette's head.

"I'm going to make you come, now," Brittany said, very matter of fact.

Rachel could only fist the sheets as Brittany rubbed her face down the brunette's clothed body.

"These need to come off for what I want to do," Brittany mumbled as brushed her nose against the button of Rachel's pants. She unbuttoned them and pulled the jeans and panties from Rachel's legs before she could protest.

The air was ripped from Rachel's lungs as her back bowed and her hips jerked at the sensation of Brittany's entire mouth overwhelming her. Brittany gave long, broad licks against Rachel's soft, sweet flesh. She wrapped her arms around the brunette's thighs to hold her down; the woman was writhing like nothing else.

"Brittany, oh god!"

The blonde felt Rachel's hands tugging at her hair, and she smirked into the woman's pussy. She licked up the length one more time before wrapping her lips around her clit and sucking while she easily slid two fingers into Rachel's heat. She gave a kitten lick to Rachel's clit and then moved up her torso, pushing her tongue into the woman's open mouth.

Brittany rocked her body forward as she thrust into Rachel, knocking the headboard of the bed against the wall. "Come on, Rachel," Brittany panted into Rachel's ear as the brunette's walls began tightening around her fingers. "Let me hear you sing."

Brittany moved into her once, twice, three more times, and Rachel sang. She sang loud, shocked at the intensity of the orgasm coursing through her. Her toes curled, and she clung to Brittany's head; the only place she knew to have been unharmed by her fall.

Rachel, gasping, curled and uncurled her fingers into the damp hair at the nape of Brittany's neck. The blonde's head was resting on Rachel's shoulder, and she closed her eyes as she listened to the sounds of Rachel's deliciously labored breathing. She pulled her fingers from the smaller woman and wasted no time in bringing the slick digits into her mouth, cleaning them.

"Oh my god," Rachel groaned at the display, and pulled Brittany's head down for a lazy kiss, whining into the blonde's mouth as she tasted herself again. "Mmm," Rachel closed her eyes and her head fell back against the pillow. Brittany chuckled, pleased with herself. There was something she needed to take care of, though…

"Rach," Brittany dismounted the woman before sliding off her second pair of ruined boy shorts of the night. She swung her leg back over the brunette, and Rachel's eyes shot open when she felt Brittany's wetness against her stomach.

"Oh," Rachel's brain was barely functioning as unconsciousness threatened to take over, but she knew this was good.

"You don't need to- just keep your leg up," Brittany positioned herself over Rachel's left thigh and settled down. She sighed as she began moving, and sought out connection.

Brittany knew Rachel was still hesitant about touching her because of all of her bruises, but Rachel's hands were limp above her head. Brittany laced their fingers together on the pillow as she worked herself against Rachel's taut leg, her breathing getting heavier by the second. The blonde's movements quickened and she squeezed Rachel's hands as the burning in her stomach became tighter. She hadn't expected to be so close, already. This really wouldn't take very long at all.

Rachel squeezed back and nuzzled at Brittany's cheek, searching for her mouth. Brittany took the hint and connected their lips, yelping into the woman's mouth as Rachel bit her tongue.

Her orgasm took both of them by surprise.

Brittany grunted, and whined, and her short nails made little half-moon marks as they dug into the backs of Rachel's hands. Her body tensed, and shuddered, and she collapsed, sighing, on top of Rachel.


	2. Chapter 2

**Pairing**: Brittany/Rachel  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own Glee or any of its characters.  
**Summary**: Brittany and Rachel work at a community theater and they form a relationship after an interesting mishap at a racetrack.  
**Author**'s Note: This is AU, probably a little OOC, but I'm having fun writing it.  
**Spoilers**: Darth Vader is Luke's father.

* * *

When Brittany woke up, it was still dark out. She was on her stomach, and Rachel was on top of her, blonde and brown hair splayed across the pillow. Rachel's face was buried in the back of her neck, and the smaller woman was snoring just loud enough to be noticeable. For whatever reason, Brittany found the sound to be completely hilarious. The blonde began laughing hysterically, instantly rousing the woman sleeping on her back.

"Whahappen? What?" Rachel propped herself up using an arm across Brittany's shoulder blades.

Rachel's confused grogginess only served to make Brittany laugh harder. "You have the cutest," the blonde gasped, half of her face pressed into the pillow. "The cutest snore!" She wheezed through a smile. Brittany felt herself shuddering through her laugh, and felt Rachel bouncing slightly because of it.

"Aaahh!" Brittany took deep breaths and released them in cries of absolute elation. "I can- can't stop!"

Rachel slid of off the ecstatic blonde's back and watched as she flipped over, her mouth set in a wide smile and her face covered with happy tears.

Rachel wanted so much to be angry with Brittany for accusing her of snoring, but found herself smiling at the fact that the woman wasn't even making noise anymore, she was laughing so hard.

"Calm down, before you pull something," she chuckled, wiping away the wetness that was still falling from Brittany's eyes.

Brittany was gasping for much needed air, holding her sides and still wearing a huge smile. "You snore," Brittany turned her head and giggled at the half-hearted glare she was receiving. Brittany turned her head towards her drawers and groaned. "Mmm, I wanna chaaaaange," she whined out the last word, and Rachel smirked as Brittany rolled out of bed to her closet.

Rachel watched Brittany as the woman fished through a top drawer and slipped on a pair of oversized blue boxers with yellow rubber ducks on them. Her back was turned to Rachel, and the brunette licked her lips when Brittany unhooked her bra.

"Are you thirsty?" Brittany turned back to Rachel, unabashedly showing off her body. She wasn't flaunting herself on purpose; she just honestly didn't think she needed to cover herself up. Wearing the loose boxers was simply a comfort thing.

"Uh huh," the brunette stared at Brittany's chest, actually salivating as she thought about taking those pink nipples into her mouth.

Brittany left for the kitchen and Rachel took in her surroundings. The room was simple, with off-white walls and what looked like an en suite bathroom to the left of the bedroom door. There were various pieces of artwork hanging here and there, mostly paintings, and some photography. Rachel got up and took a closer look at one of the paintings. It was Brittany sitting at a kitchen table, laughing as she looked at the artist. In the bottom right hand corner Rachel read the name S. Lopez.

She turned back to the bed and found her panties on the floor. She slipped them on, and unhooked her bra inside her shirt, sliding the straps down her arms and pulling the clothing item from underneath the hem of her v-neck.

Brittany came back with two glasses of water and a pair of coasters as Rachel was sitting on the bed. "I got water, is that okay?" Brittany set the coasters on the dresser and then put down the glasses before flinging herself face down on the mattress. She groaned into the comforter; she'd missed the pillow by about foot and a half, so her feet were hanging off of the edge.

Rachel giggled and glanced at the bedside table, just then noticing what time it was. "It's three fifteen," she stated, but she smiled when she felt a hand blindly groping at the backs of her thighs. "Can I help you?" Rachel looked over her shoulder at Brittany, who had turned her face so she was facing the brunette.

"Come sleep with me," Brittany sleepily muttered.

Rachel blushed.

Brittany broke into a big grin. "No, Rach. I mean come sleep with me." she began dragging herself up the bed and she pulled the covers back so she could crawl under them. The blonde lay on her side and held her arms open.

"Oh," Rachel smiled, realizing she was still very tired. "Alright."

She slid back up the bed and leaned down for a quick kiss before turning and being the little spoon in Brittany's arms.

"What time do you have to be in, tomorrow?" Brittany asked, her breath hitting the back of Rachel's neck.

"Marcus usually wants me there at ten on Mondays," the Brunette said. Her eyes were getting harder and harder to keep open.

"My class isn't until four," Brittany tightened her hold around Rachel's waist and breathed in the smell of dried sweat, sex, and vanilla still lingering on her skin. Brittany smiled and the last thing she said before she fell asleep was, "Cutest snore."

xxx

Rachel was the first to wake up this time, or so she thought. She rolled over only to find the other side of the bed empty. The brunette's heart sank for just a second before she heard humming, and smelled pancakes.

Rachel smiled and checked the clock. Eight o' five.

Plenty of time.

She went into Brittany's bathroom and rifled around in the drawers until she found an unopened toothbrush. She brushed her teeth, used some of Brittany's mouthwash, and brushed out her hair.

Rachel ventured out down the hallway and into the kitchen where Brittany was dancing around with a spatula and a jar of what looked like boysenberry jam. The speakers were playing a band Rachel hadn't head, before. It was happy music, very upbeat. The blonde was still in her rubber duck boxers, but she'd put a white wife-beater on, and also the duck apron she'd worn when she made dinner the previous night. Brittany made a perfect spin in the middle of the kitchen and smiled when she saw Rachel watching her.

"Hey," she went to the stove and quickly flipped two last pancakes onto a plate and brought them out to the table, which Rachel now saw was set the way it had been when they had dinner, minus the candle, and instead of glasses of wine there were two cups of orange juice and mugs of coffee.

"I made breakfast," Brittany walked over to Rachel, held her by the hips, and leaned down for a good morning kiss.

Rachel sighed into the kiss when Brittany snaked her tongue out, and everything was over all too soon when the blonde pulled away. Rachel looked up into blue eyes and brushed a blonde hair back behind her ear. "I can see that. Shall we get started?"

Brittany nodded excitedly and grabbed Rachel's hand to lead her to the table.

"I made pancakes and oatmeal, and there're some raisins and bananas and strawberries. Also orange juice, and I made coffee but there's also like an entire cupboard full of different kinds of tea."

"The pancakes look amazing."

Brittany placed two pancakes on Rachel's plate and put a small square of butter on the top flapjack.

Rachel's stomach twisted at the sight of the little yellow square beginning to melt on her breakfast. "Is that-?"

"It's vegan, Rach, don't worry. I'd never give you real butter," Brittany stated in a slightly incredulous voice as she put the butter substitute on her own pancakes as well as the jam she'd been carrying earlier.

"Oh," Rachel thought for a minute as she poured maple syrup on her plate. "Brittany, how did you know I was vegan?"

Brittany scrunched her nose. "I don't know. I think I overheard you talking to someone in the break room? Jesse was trying to share his roast beef sandwich, or something, and you told him you were vegan. I had been walking down the hall and I just heard the last part of the conversation." Brittany was finishing her last bit of pancake and moving on to putting bits of fruit into her bowl of oatmeal.

Rachel furrowed her brow, trying to remember the incident the blonde was talking about. "Brittany, that was my second day of ever being at the theater."

"So?"

"It was three months ago, we hadn't even met yet."

"So?" Brittany asked again as she spooned out the last of her oatmeal and fruit.

"So you remember something about me when you didn't even know my name?" Rachel finally began eating the pancakes, doing a bad job of holding back her moans at how good the food was. Brittany smirked at the noises Rachel was making. She made a mental note to cook for the brunette as much as possible.

"I don't know, I just remember things about people," and about you. Brittany felt her pulse quicken under Rachel's scrutiny as she downed the rest of her orange juice. She didn't get nervous easily, and the fact that Rachel was making her nervous just made her more nervous.

Rachel finished her pancakes and moved on to the oatmeal. She smiled at Brittany's downcast look. "Alright."

Brittany toasted herself a slice of bread while Rachel finished her breakfast. She brought the plate back to the table and ate the toast dry, enjoying the crunch the it made with every bite.

Rachel finished her juice and the cup of coffee she was given. "I am so full, that was a wonderful breakfast," Rachel stood and reached for Brittany's plates.

"No, hey, you did that last night," Brittany quickly stole the plates from Rachel's grasp and hurried off to the kitchen to rinse them before Rachel got the chance.

"Well if you won't let me help, do you mind if I take a shower?" The clock above the sink read eight forty, which meant she had time for a shower and she could still linger at Brittany's apartment for a bit before she needed to leave.

"Go ahead. Um, towels are in the guest room closet. Hold on," she stuck the last of the plates into the washer and the jogged down the hall to the first door on the right. Rachel followed her into the small room. It had a bed, an armoire, and a closet, in which Brittany was getting Rachel a towel.

She handed the brunette the white, fluffy towel, and swallowed when she realized how gorgeous Rachel looked in just a v-neck and panties.

"The shower's in my room to the left," Brittany said.

Rachel nodded and walked off towards her destination before the look of lust Brittany was giving her affected her too much. She grabbed her messenger bag from by the front door and then went about taking her shower.

xxx

When Rachel reemerged from the bathroom, she was in a white camisole and an unbuttoned, faded red, button-up shirt. Her hair was up in a loose, wet bun, and she slipped back on her jeans that had been in a pile on the floor at the foot of the bed. She wandered back down the hall but stopped when she saw the door to the left of the guest room was open. Brittany was inside, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a loose-knit blue sweater over her wife-beater. She was stretching out on the floor, eyes closed in concentration. The floor, Rachel noticed, was ever so slightly padded, almost like a gymnastics training area. The rest of the room was relatively empty, save for a separate sound system, a small table in the far left corner housing an iPod dock, and a rack of a variety of different weights just to the left of the door.

"Hey," Rachel lightly knocked on the open door, not wanting to disturb the tranquil scene in front of her.

Brittany picked her head up from where it rested on her extended legs and smiled at Rachel's presence. Her brow furrowed when she saw what Rachel was wearing. "You brought a change of clothes?" She stood and walked over to the brunette, fingering one of the small buttons of the shirt.

Rachel blushed. "I thought I should," she pulled on the bottom of the red fabric and her eyes found the floor. "Just in case."

The brunette missed Brittany's knowing grin. "Just in case what?"

Rachel met twinkling blue eyes. "You know exactly what, as it transpired in your bed last night," her cheeks were burning, and Brittany's smirk only fueled the heat in her face.

"You're sexy when you blush," Brittany didn't give Rachel time to respond before she walked the woman through the doorway until her back hit the hallway wall opposite the room.

Rachel grunted as Brittany's tongue pushed past her lips and the heat in her face rushed between her thighs as her own tongue tangled with the blonde's. Brittany smelled her vanilla birthday cake shampoo and body wash in Rachel's hair and on her skin. "You smell like me," she licked at the column of Rachel's throat at the woman threw her head back.

Rachel fisted her left hand in Brittany's loose hair and without warning, shoved her right hand past the elastic of her sweatpants and into her underwear. She slid her fingers into abundant wetness and whined when Brittany bit at her neck when her fingers brushed the blonde's clit.

"Rachel," Brittany's voice was high pitched and needy, and Rachel reveled in the feeling of the tightness that surrounded her when she entered Brittany with two fingers. "What are you doing?"

Rachel was moving in her quickly, rubbing her slick walls with ease, loving the sound Brittany would make as the tips of her fingers brushed across the right place with every thrust.

"Oh, should I stop?" Rachel began to slowly pull out in a teasing way.

"No, please," Brittany was leaning forward, her forehead on the wall next to Rachel's ear. She was getting close, and she didn't want this to stop. Few people knew how much Brittany loved to be topped. Santana was (of course) one of them, and a handful of random one night stands where Brittany had told them to take charge were the select others. The fact that Rachel had taken the initiative was turning her on beyond belief. "Please, keep going," Brittany expelled a harsh breath as Rachel not only continued, but started moving faster. "Yes."

Rachel could feel Brittany getting tighter around her fingers. She quickly added a third finger and smirked as Brittany cried out. "You like this, don't you?" She breathed into Brittany's ear. "You like not being in control?" She wasn't saying it in an enticing way; Rachel was genuinely curious. It came off as enticing, anyway, and soon Brittany was tensing around her, chanting, "Yes, yes, Rachel, yes," and having problems staying upright.

"I," Brittany panted as Rachel removed her hand from the blonde's pants. "I was not expecting that."

Rachel chuckled. "Neither was I," she kissed the taller woman, slowly slipping her tongue into her mouth before pulling back. "I should go so I'm not late."

"Why? It's only," she took Rachel's hand and walked on shaky legs to the kitchen. "Oh. Nine thirty. You can't stay for seven more minutes?"

"What's going to happen in seven minutes?" Rachel asked as she walked over to the sink. She washed her hands and looked over her shoulder to the blonde who was not so subtly staring at her ass.

"I can make you come in four, and that leaves three for recovery," Brittany smirked.

Rachel bit her lip, intrigued with the thought of what technique Brittany might use to get her to climax so quickly. She shook her head, though. "You can showcase your many skills another time," she kissed Brittany's pouting lips – something Rachel was beginning to find completely adorable – and walked back out of the kitchen towards the front door. Brittany walked with her, and they both delayed Rachel's leaving in the open doorway, neither of them wanting the brunette to go.

"Coffee later?" Brittany suggested.

Rachel smiled and nodded licking her lips in anticipation for Brittany's goodbye kiss. She wasn't disappointed. Brittany took Rachel's face into her hands and pressed their lips together softly, lingering there as she slowly moved her lips, never deepening the kiss. Brittany was the first to pull away, and she chuckled when Rachel's lips followed hers. "Go, you don't want to get on Marcus's bad side."

Rachel sighed and leaned her head against Brittany's chest. The blonde wrapped Rachel into a hug and kissed the crown of her head. "I'll see you in a bit."

Rachel nodded and walked away, passing two doors on her way to the elevator.

Brittany watched until the double sliding doors closed, and then stepped back into her apartment just as her cell phone rang. "Yellow?"

"Hey, when's your first class?"

Brittany smiled. "Hey, San. It's just one on Mondays, and it's not until four."

"Good. Come over at twelve, I'm going to make paella and some different kinds of tapas for lunch."

Brittany gasped. "Can I come over now?"

"I thought Rachel was there?" There was a static-y sound on Santana's end. It sounded like she was still in bed.

"She was, she just left. She has to be at the theater at ten. So can I just come over now?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Okay, see you in thirty."

Brittany didn't bother changing; she just grabbed a canvas satchel and tossed in some things she'd need for the rest of the day: Her wallet, her ballet routines, some CDs, and her iPod. Once she got to street level she briskly walked to the subway and waited a few minutes for her train to arrive.

xxx

Brittany pushed her key into the front door lock and made the trek up the stairs to Santana's loft on the seventh floor. She unlocked Santana's door and her suspicions were confirmed when she found her friend snoozing in her room. The blonde carefully slipped her shoes off and lifted the covers so she could slide in next to Santana. She spooned the brunette from behind and breathed in her familiar scent, sliding her hand up to rest on the brunette's warm stomach.

"Your hands are fucking freezing," Santana removed Brittany's hand from inside her shirt and placed it on her clothed waist.

"Well whose fault is that for keeping on the air con so high?" Brittany shuffled away a little bit so she could shove her hands up the back of Santana's shirt, pressing against her shoulder blades and making the woman arch away, whining.

"Bitch, don't make me take my key away from you!" She twisted an arm behind her back in an attempt to swat Brittany away. Brittany just giggled and laced their pinkies together. Santana instantly stopped thrashing and turned around so she could face her blonde friend. "You know I like to keep it cool in here so I can-"

"-so you can bundle in your covers, I know, San, I've woken up freezing in your bed enough times to be aware of your sleeping habits."

"Whatever," Santana brushed off the accusation of being a blanket hog and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "You get any?" Brittany's grin answered her question. "I knew it! Gimme details."

"Nuh uh, not this time, San."

"Aw, what the fuck, B?"

"I really like her."

Santana sobered and smiled. "C'mere," she opened her arms and Brittany scooted forward into the embrace. "I want to meet her."

"I know."

"I told her on the phone yesterday that we're going for drinks on Sunday."

"Okay."

"You pick the place."

"Lady?"

"You know I never say no to that bar."

"Just because you know you'll go home with some chick."

"Well, duh."

Brittany snorted and buried her face into Santana's chest. "You're warm."

"Yeah, yeah. What happened last night other than you boning your woman?"

"She's not my woman, yet, San," but Brittany told her friend about scaring Rachel at the Hills, placing second, and her crash. "And after dinner we were getting all cozy in the kitchen when she held me by the waist and I made a noise 'cause it hurt." She then told Santana how Rachel took care of her, up until she pulled Rachel in for a kiss.

"She has a nice voice," Santana commented. "From when I talked to her on the phone, she has a nice voice."

"She has nice everything," Brittany mused. "You know she thought I had a boyfriend?"

Santana laughed. "Oh my god, that's terrible!"

"I know! I haven't had a boyfriend since junior year in high school."

"Did you set her straight?"

Brittany snorted. "So to speak."

Santana smirked and stretched her arms up, groaning in the process. "Okay, what time is it?"

Brittany clambered on top of the brunette and sat on her hips so she could see the clock on the bedside table. "It's ten forty," she said before smiling at her sleepy friend.

"Mmk. Let me see you," Santana lifted the hems of the shirts Brittany wore and hissed when she saw the purple bruises. "When's the next Bowl?"

"Not 'til next month, so I should be fine by then."

"Oh, good. Hey, Q's flying out for a bit, next month."

"What? When?"

"Next month, B. I guess the crew she's on is doing some location filming, or some shit, but she'll be staying with me for a few weeks."

"I miss her."

"I know, B. Me too."

Brittany fell sideways onto Santana's king size bed and nudged at the brunette's hip with her toes. "Go make me lunch, esclava."

Santana smirked at the unfortunate nickname she'd been given by Brittany years ago. They'd been playing Princesses, and Brittany was wearing the little paper crown one day while she was over at the Lopez residence when she'd asked Santana's mom what 'slave' was in Spanish. From that day on, the blonde lovingly referred to Santana as her esclava. "Yes, your worshipfulness. Shall I bring it to you on a tray, or will you condescend to dine with me in the kitchen?"

"I'll eat with you, San."

They stood and Santana walked over to a corner and picked up some shorts out of a small pile of clothes.

"I need to do laundry," she grumbled.

The two walked side by side out of the room and on their way to the kitchen Brittany bent her leg at the knee and playfully kicked Santana's ass before jumping away and running to the other side of the island. Santana was quick to retaliate, though, and she soon had Brittany cornered, hands poised to dole out her revenge. She was grinning evilly at Brittany's form, one leg up in attempt to kick out if Santana got to close, her arms up to protect her body.

The brunette made one more step and Brittany squealed. "No hit backs, I'm injured, I'm injured!" She closed her eyes, preparing for Santana to lightly jab her in the side or to kick her thigh, but nothing happened. When she opened her eyes, Santana's were narrowed, and her arms were crossed over her chest.

"You little sneak, attacking me and then playing the injured card," she reached around Brittany and pulled out a bag of tortillas from the breadbox. "Just know that when you've healed, I'll get you back when you least expect it."

Brittany smiled and kissed Santana on the cheek before opening the fridge. "What do you need from here?"

"I've kind of lost interest in the paella, so the cilantro, salsa, avocado, beef, and chicken for right now."

Santana started work on the tapas, and Brittany did her own part by chopping things and keeping an eye on the stove when the brunette had to attend to other parts of the meal.

By two o' clock they had both eaten their fill and then some.

"Saaaaan, how am I supposed to teach little kids to pirouette if I can't even move to show them hooow?" Brittany was on the living room floor right next to Santana's easel, on her back, with that adorable pout fixed on her face.

"This feeling will pass, B, you should be able to move by four," Santana spoke from the couch. She was fiddling with her new instant camera. She turned the dial to an outside setting and snapped a picture of Brittany on the floor, the white fabric protecting her wood floors from paint a stark contrast to the blonde's blue sweater.

The camera flashed and the mechanical buzzing of the photograph printing out the top of the device alerted Brittany to its presence.

"What's that?"

"New camera. You take a picture and it comes out right away," she pulled the little slip from its place. "Wanna see?"

Brittany got up from the floor and sat in Santana's lap, carefully taking the picture into her fingers.

"It's me," Brittany said as it came into focus. "Neat," she flopped back against Santana's chest and the brunette groaned at the extra weight on her full stomach. "I should get home and change before going to the theater."

Santana gently wrapped her arms around Brittany's waist and hugged as best she could.

"Come see what I've been working on before you go," she let go of the blonde and lightly tapped her thighs to get her to stand up. She walked to the corner, turned the easel around, and revealed her latest creation.

A wide grin broke out over Brittany's face as she gazed at the still-wet paint. "San…"

Santana blushed slightly at Brittany's soft tone.

"She'll love this," Brittany eyes started misting at the sight of an eighteen year old Quinn holding her two year old daughter.

Santana smiled and turned the easel back to face the corner. She had a weird personal superstition about looking at her own unfinished painting. Santana thought that if she kept looking at it when she wasn't working on it, she'd get sick of it and it would never be completed.

"C'mere," Brittany turned Santana and squeezed her tightly around the shoulders before making an excited noise and making her friend laugh. "You have to call me before she gets here so I can see her face when you show it to her!"

Santana chuckled and did her best to hug back without putting too much pressure on her frame. "I will, B."

"Mmk, I'm gonna head out," she kissed Santana on the forehead before the brunette saw Brittany to do the door.

She made it back to her apartment in time to change into some grey yoga pants, dance flats, and a different, longer, loose knit sweater before leaving for the theater.


	3. Chapter 3

**Pairing**: Brittany/Rachel  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own Glee or any of its characters.  
**Summary**: Brittany and Rachel work at a community theater and they form a relationship after an interesting mishap at a racetrack.  
**Author**'s **Note**: This is AU, probably a little OOC, but I'm having fun writing it.  
**Spoilers**: Oedipus kills his father and sleeps with his mother.

* * *

"Okay, everyone, last stretches at the bar! And Joey, I want you to work on that jump at home, alright?" The boy nodded and Brittany played her 'stretches' track for her most advanced class of kids. She liked this class. They were the kids who went on past the classes their parents enrolled them in, and they actually wanted to be there, making Brittany's job much easier.

The track ended and the kids all congregated to the cubbies on the far wall to gather their things before leaving. A chorus of, "See you, Miss P," "Great class," "Thanks, Miss P," a hug from the youngest girl in the class, and Brittany's two-hour and only class of the day was over with.

xxx

It was almost seven which meant Rachel's day of painting various set pieces, adjusting light gels, and re-hanging curtains was just about done. She just had some rope to bring to the props closet and she'd be able to go home. Marcus had already left an hour earlier, leaving her the last one there.

She paused on the way to the closet when she heard the distinct thumping bass of what she assumed was some sort of pop song coming from down the hallway past the props closet. Rachel quickly deposited the rope and went to investigate the sound in the apparently not so empty theater.

She peered in through the window in the door and gasped at what she saw.

Brittany was dancing flawlessly to the beat of the music; she seemingly just free styling. She rolled her body in flowing movements in one second and the next she was popping her hips and her shoulders in opposite directions.

Rachel tore her eyes away from the amazing body to look at the blonde's face. Her eyes were closed and a smile would grace her lips every time she did a particularly pleasing move.

Rachel watched, unsure of what to do, as the other door in the room opened and a fit young man with black hair she didn't recognize began to sneak up on Brittany, whose back was turned and eyes were still shut.

The man – dressed in dark blue jeans, a grey, low v-neck, and blue and red Nike high tops – crouched low, taking quiet steps even though the music was still playing. Rachel was about to open the door when Brittany opened her eyes and saw him in the mirror. The blonde's face lit up and she twirled around to jump in the smiling man's arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as he spun her around.

The brunette backed away from the door, feeling like she was intruding on some special moment. She walked back to the sound room to retrieve her things and was making her way out the back door when she realized she hadn't locked the props closet.

With a sigh, she adjusted her shoulder bag and jacket and wandered back through the theater and down a hall to the closet. As she turned the key in the lock the door behind her opened and a slim finger tapped her on the shoulder.

"Brittany," Rachel smiled and looked behind the blonde to see that the mysterious black-haired man was gone. "I was just leaving when I realized I neglected to lock the props closet."

"Hey, Rach," they smiled at each other for a few seconds before Brittany snapped out of it. "We never got coffee."

"No, I suppose we didn't. How was the rest of your day?" They began walking towards the back door and Brittany gave a contemplative humming sound.

"Well, after an awesome night with this mega hot brunette," Brittany grinned at Rachel's soft smile. "I made her breakfast, she took me up against a wall, and then I kissed her goodbye."

Rachel was biting her lower lip. "And what happened after your tryst with this brunette?"

"San called right after you left," Brittany dropped the charade and proceeded to hold the door open for Rachel who thanked her before walking out into the hot summer air. "So I went over and got her out of bed and she made me lunch."

"What did she make?" Rachel began walking out of the alley and turned left in the direction of the small parking lot designated to the theater. Brittany must have parked in that direction, too, because she didn't stop the brunette to have the conversation on neutral ground.

"Little soft tacos. We used to watch her mom make them all the time."

Before Rachel knew what was happening, her right hand was taken into Brittany's left, their fingers lacing together. Rachel thought about the weight in her hand and then the two women were standing at the back of Rachel's dark blue Prius.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked softly as she stared at the pale fingers woven with hers.

"Going home with you," Brittany said, her confidence making the brunette blush. Brittany smirked at the color in Rachel's cheeks illuminated by street lights. "You know," she turned to face the shorter woman fully. "For someone who can be so dominant in bed, you sure are shy at even the insurgence of sex."

Rachel bit her tongue and giggled. "I think you mean 'insinuation.' "

Brittany, deciding she was done with big words, dropped Rachel's hand in favor of cupping the woman's face and chasing after the glimpse of that pink tongue with her own. When Rachel moaned she pulled away from the kiss with a smacking noise and looked into the brunette's darkening eyes.

"Take me home with you."

And Rachel did.

This time, Brittany made sure they were both completely stripped of their clothes, and Rachel made sure she was on top for at least three of the many rounds they went through. By one in the morning, they were both too exhausted to change Rachel's sex-permeated bedding.

xxx

Brittany woke up on her back, freezing. It was four, and Rachel was making that adorable snoring noise. Still, goose bumps covered her skin, and she needed to fix that situation, seeing as Rachel had somehow rolled herself into a warm little down-comforter burrito.

She walked over to the dresser and pulled the first drawer open. Her face fell at what she saw.

"Oh, fuck," Brittany stood in Rachel's room, stark naked, cold, with a look of absolute disgust on her face at the multiple different colored New York Yankees hats, shirts, and even socks littering the large drawer.

She quickly shut it as quietly as she could, and carefully pulled the second one, relieved when she found sweatshirts. She pulled on a plain grey one, and closed that drawer quietly as well.

When she turned back to the bed, she eyed the sleeping brunette in a completely new light. Come baseball season, there would definitely be some harsh words coming from Brittany's mouth as she donned her Red Sox paraphernalia.

Brittany sighed. All that would come later. Right now, she just wanted to figure out a way to spoon Rachel, skin to skin, with the comforter actually on top of them, instead of wrapped around the brunette.

She ended up slowly, carefully rolling Rachel until she was able to slip in next to her and pull some of the blanket around her own body. She fell asleep with her arm around Rachel's waist and the smell of sex and the brunette's vanilla shampoo in the air.

"I want you to help Brittany with her class, today," Marcus said from behind his desk, his half-moon glasses perched on his nose as he thumbed through a script.

"May I ask why?" Rachel sat on the couch to the left of his desk as the the two chairs – she usually sat in the one to the right – were occupied by more piles of scripts, as was his desk.

"Her other classes have been postponed for a senior living facility to take a class from her, today. It's some charity thing, or something. It's only for an hour an a half, and she always asks to go home after," he looked up and saw the uncertainty in her eyes. "It'll be a good learning experience, sweetheart, you can do more with the soundboard tomorrow."

"So I'm only going to be here for as long as she is?"

"You got it, cupcake."

She nodded her understanding and left his office in search of the larger dance room where Brittany taught her adult classes.

She found it, knocked, and entered when a muffled, "It's open," was heard through the door.

Brittany was on the floor sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, bent over with her forehead on the hardwood. It looked like she was asleep.

"Marcus says I'm yours for the duration of your class."

Brittany smiled. "Just for my class?"

Rachel didn't answer. Instead, she sat opposite Brittany in the same position, but upright.

"Lift your shirt," Rachel softy commanded.

Brittany sat up and obeyed. Her bruises still hurt like a bitch, after all it had only been three days since the race, but they were healing. Rachel's ghost of a touch skimmed her skin and she shivered.

"We were too rough, last night," Rachel gently rubbed her thumb over an unscathed patch of abdominals before placing the shirt back over Brittany's stomach. "I'm coming over tonight to take care of you, and no funny business, this time."

Brittany pouted. "None?"

Rachel smirked. "I guess we'll see," she looked around the large room and noticed the clock on the wall read ten thirty. "What classes would you have been teaching today if the people from the elderly care facility weren't coming?"

"Tuesdays I have three different ballet classes with little kids, like, five and six year olds. Once a month the people at the old folks home a few blocks away come and dance," Brittany extended her legs and yawned. "It's labeled as a class, but mostly it's just for them to have fun. They do have to do the dances I assign, though."

"And today those dances are?"

"Waltz, Foxtrot, and Tango."

Right on cue the main two doors opened and a group of twenty elderly people wandered in followed by two young volunteers.

Rachel stood and watched as Brittany smiled excitedly and even hugged a few of the different people.

"Okay, everybody partner up! Usually I'd ask for a volunteer to demonstrate the first dance, but today I have a lovely assistant to help me out," Brittany smiled at the pairs of two around the room and then turned to Rachel, extending her hand for the brunette. "Rachel?"

The blonde smiled as she slid her left hand into Rachel's right, and placed her own right gently just below the brunette's shoulder blade. Rachel's right arm rested on Brittany's left and she smiled, remembering when her dad would dance like this with her when she was five and six and seven, their ridiculous height differences making her daddy laugh.

Brittany's eyes sparkled as she watched Rachel relive whatever happy memory was making her smile and then turned to a woman who standing close to the stereo. "Rose, will you please press the big red button on the radio?"

Rose smiled a toothless grin and did as she was asked, easily finding the button covered in red tape. She pushed it and the room was filled with the gentle strings of a waltz. Rachel looked at Brittany's face before she remembered she wasn't supposed to do that. She looked to the left, over the blonde's shoulder, and when Brittany gave the slightest pressure on to their joined hands and Rachel stepped back as Brittany stepped forward, and suddenly, they were dancing.

It was a slow waltz, no doubt so it would be easier for the class to follow. The women moved around the room once and when they made it back, Brittany asked everyone to join in. She spun Rachel and went back to dancing them around the room, checking on everyone else as they moved.

"When did you learn to waltz?"

Rachel smiled. "When I was five."

The dancing continued for the next hour and a half. Mostly Brittany danced with Rachel, but occasionally someone would ask to cut in to dance with one of the girls. When the time was up, Brittany hugged the same people she had when the group came in, and they all shuffled out of the room with smiles on their aged faces. After they'd all left, Brittany grabbed her satchel and iPod from the corner closest to the door and threw a smirk over her shoulder at Rachel. "C'mon, let's get out of here. You owe me coffee."

Rachel smiled and followed Brittany out of the room, leading the blonde to the women's washroom where her own belongings were waiting for her in a locker. She spun the combination and pulled the TimBuk2 bag out before walking into the hall with Brittany.

"So we headed to CJ?" Rachel pushed open the front door and held it for the blonde woman.

"Yeah, I have a hankering for an iced chai," Brittany spoke as she put her hair in a loose bun, exposing her long neck.

Rachel's phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her jeans pocket.

"I just got a text from Marcus; he wants me to help you with your classes for the rest of the week."

"Oh, okay," said Brittany as they walked out onto the sidewalk. "You want to come back to mine to go over my dance routines for them?"

Rachel smiled. "Yeah, that sounds fun."

"Okay then."

xxx

Brittany opened her front door and was met with the smell of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. A wide grin immediately broke out across her and she screamed before sprinting down the hall and to the right towards the kitchen while calling out, "Quinn!" in the process.

Rachel took off her jacket and smiled, albeit a little confusedly, at the squeals and giggles coming from further in the apartment. She hesitantly walked down the short entry hall, took a right, and made her way toward the voices. There were three of them, Rachel noted, all of them talking excitedly. She walked in front of the kitchen and found Brittany clinging to a slightly shorter blonde woman while a brunette not much taller than Rachel watched.

Brittany spun her laughing friend around and caught Rachel's eye. "Rach!" she put down the other blonde and beamed at the woman at the head of the room.

The brunette smiled at Brittany's happy expression. The other blonde and brunette looked at Rachel as well and she recognized them as the women in the photos around Brittany's apartment. Rachel walked further into the kitchen and stuck her hand out to the brunette who was eyeing her skeptically. "You're Santana."

Santana gave kind of a diagonal nod and shook the proffered hand. "And you're Rachel," Santana looked this new woman over and gave Brittany some credit. Her friend always did have good taste.

"And this is Quinn!" Brittany squealed again when Rachel and Quinn shook hands. "This is so awesome! We just need Mike and Puck and all my favorite people will be here!"

"Ew, B," Santana chuckled. "You don't want that grungy boy here."

"Puck's in LA, anyway," Quinn said and moved to the oven. She opened the door and pulled out a tray of hot, gooey cookies with duck oven mitts before setting it down on a cooling rack on the counter.

"Yeah, but Mike's here," Brittany reached for a cookie but Santana slapped her hand away muttering, "too hot."

"I saw him at the theater the other day," Brittany hopped onto the counter and Rachel leaned on the counter across from her.

"He can come to drinks on Sunday," said Santana.

Brittany placed a hand on her stomach and Rachel was the only one who caught the slightly uncomfortable look under her smile, and she quickly moved in front of the blonde.

"Brittany," Rachel lifted the hem of the woman's red peasant top and cringed. The bruises were now a sickly yellow color. Rachel heard a hiss from behind her, but her attention was on Brittany. "Don't move, okay?" she looked up and smiled when Brittany nodded. She turned to the other women and said, "Excuse me," before she walked out of the kitchen.

Quinn and Santana made eye contact with each other and smirked as their tall friend gazed after Rachel seconds after the brunette was out of sight.

"What's with the bruises, B?" Quinn chuckled softly while her friend still stared after Rachel.

"Someone kicked my moving bike over when I beat him for second," Brittany said. She was still waiting for Rachel to get back "Rachel was there," she said.

"Oh yeah?" Quinn realized she was clearly not going to get good answers from a very distracted Brittany, so she turned with a quirked eyebrow to Santana.

"She had a race on Sunday, she placed second, and the guy she beat was pissed because only first and second got cash prizes," Santana explained. "B had invited Rachel, and I guess she followed B here and took care of her." Santana frowned a little and moved to take a look at Brittany's bruises herself.

"Damn, B," Santana lifted Brittany's shirt up and off and set the fabric down on the counter.

Brittany finally snapped to attention when she realized she was being disrobed. "Can I help you?" she asked playfully.

"I'm just looking," Santana smiled when Brittany poked her furrowed brow.

"Um," Rachel had reappeared in the open entryway of the kitchen. She was holding two damp washcloths in her hand and a bottle of Tylenol in the other. Santana moved back to the other side of the room next to Quinn to let Rachel do what she wanted.

"Hey, Rach," Brittany smiled as if she hadn't seen the brunette all day.

Rachel smiled through biting her lip and walked up to hand Brittany the towels. "Put these on your hip and stomach," she was trying hard to not blatantly ogle Brittany with the blonde's friends there, so she kept her eyes on Brittany's face.

Brittany did as she was told and winced as the hot material touched her skin. "Can we go to the couch?"

Rachel laughed softly. "Of course," she stepped back and Brittany hopped down from the counter. "I'm going to get you a glass of water, I'll be there in a second."

Brittany walked out to her living area and was followed by her friends. Brittany sprawled herself on the couch while Santana and Quinn took the two lounge chairs next to the windows.

"How come you're here so early, Q?" Brittany asked. "San said you weren't coming until next month."

"Yeah, well, she's a lying sneak. She wanted to surprise you. I got here like an hour after you left yesterday," Quinn grinned at Brittany incredulous expression.

"What?"

"Happy surprise, B," Santana was smiling widely, too, at Brittany's shocked expression. The blonde was about to get up to hug Quinn again but Rachel came into the room with the glass of water.

"Sorry to interrupt," Rachel stood over Brittany and held out the glass. "Sit up," Rachel handed Brittany the meds and waited for her to drink some water before taking the glass back and setting it down on a side table. Rachel looked back to Brittany and the blonde had sat up a little further, but her legs still took up most of the couch.

Rachel looked amused as she asked, "You gonna let me sit?"

Brittany answered immediately. "Get behind me."

"What?"

"Come on," Brittany grinned.

Rachel smiled and shook her head. "You can be," she carefully slid in behind Brittany, positioning her right leg between Brittany and the back of the couch. "incredibly cheeky," Rachel closed her eyes as Brittany leaned back into her, and she wrapped her arms snugly below the dancer's breasts to avoid putting pressure on her bruised abdomen. "did you know that?"

Brittany brought her hand down and pulled up Rachel's leg. She hooked it over her own legs, but kept her hand in place in case Rachel slipped. She settled lower on Rachel so her head rested on the brunette's breasts and she hummed in contentment. "Only 'cause you make it too easy, Rach."

Santana smiled at her friend looking so happy, but her attention was brought to Quinn when the blonde asked, "So, Rachel, what do you do?"

Rachel smiled at the opportunity to tell Brittany's friends about herself. "Right now I'm interning at the Rose with Brittany. I graduated from NYADA last year; I'm an actress, but I felt my knowledge of theater wouldn't be complete without some hands-on backstage experience."

Quinn nodded. "What kind of actor?"

"Every kind," Rachel gave a happy sigh. "I'm going to be on Broadway some day."

"That's a fact," Brittany still hadn't opened her eyes. "You should hear her sing, she's amazing."

"You've barely heard me sing, Brittany. I've heard you sing more than you've heard me."

"B sang for you?" Santana interjected. She sounded surprised.

"Oh, no," Rachel said, and then pointed to the DVD case. "The other day I found her Troubletones movie. You had quite the group, and all your voices were amazing."

Santana cocked a crooked smirk. "Are."

"Pardon?"

"My voice still is amazing."

Rachel smiled as Quinn, Brittany, and Santana all laughed together. Her smiled dropped, however, when Quinn removed her light pullover to reveal a refitted Red Sox tee shirt.

"Nice shirt, Q," Santana gave an approving nod. "Who's is it?"

"Beckett."

"That man can pitch," said Brittany.

Rachel stiffened. Brittany felt her tense and turned to see Rachel smiling nervously and biting her lip. "Rach?"

"I feel like I'm in the lion's den," she looked around at the women in the chairs, and then sideways to Brittany. "Things between you and me might get a little strained during baseball season."

Brittany just smiled. "Oh, don't worry, baby. I'll still be here for you when the Sox beat the ever living shit out of the Yankees this year," she placed a playful kiss on Rachel's cheek, and Rachel stiffened again. Brittany just called her 'baby.'

Rachel smiled after the initial shock of the pet name wore off. "We'll see who's here for who."

"Q-Fab, go get some of those cookies," Santana said, changing the subject from potentially vicious sports rivalry.

"Were those your doing?" Rachel asked. She tightened her hold on Brittany's waist and had a feeling the blonde didn't mind being squeezed.

"Oh yes," Quinn said with an air of false pride as she got up for her chair. "I was raised to be a Stepford wife," she walked out of the room with a playful hand to her chest and her nose in the air and came back fairly quickly with a plate full of the still-warm cookies. She placed the plate on the glass coffee table between the couch and the chairs, and Brittany immediately leaned up to snatch two for herself. Everyone but Rachel was now munching on chocolate chip heaven, and Quinn noticed.

"Don't you want a cookie? I swear they're not poisonous," she added with a crumb-covered smirk.

Rachel smiled and was about to respond when Brittany answered for her. "Rachel's vegan." Her words were muffled as she stuffed the last half of her first cookie into her mouth.

"Yeah?" Santana was in the middle of chewing her own bit of cookie. "Shame. Eating these is like a fucking out of body experience."

"Aw, you're welcome," Quinn finished her own baked good and brushed any crumbs from her face.

"I'll just have to bake a batch of my vegan cookies for you three," Rachel giggled when Brittany squealed for the billionth time that day.

"You totally have to make them here," Brittany tilted her head up and then grinned seductively at Rachel. "and then I'll fuck you on the counter while they're baking."

Rachel flushed a pink that made it down to her neck. "Brittany," she quietly admonished. Rachel was gazing at the blonde, a little appalled (and intrigued) by her remark, and she failed to notice Quinn and Santana exchange eye rolls and smirks.

Brittany's grin only widened at Rachel's embarrassment and she settled more into the brunette's chest and squeezed her leg. This day could only get better.

* * *

**Author's Note: Any ideas on how I should progress? I tend to have fairly good starts to stories, but I never think them through. It's a fault.**


End file.
